


Pact of Ice and Fire

by JustSomeBee



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: BAMF Ned Stark, Cunning Ned Stark, Eventual Fluff, F/M, Jon Snow is Not a Bastard, Jon Snow is a Stark, Light Angst, M/M, Ned Stark Lives, Ned Stark is King in the North, Robb Stark is a bastard, Robb is Brandon and Catelyn's son, Smut, The North is Independent (A Song of Ice and Fire), The North is Powerful (A Song of Ice and Fire)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-14 01:33:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29660406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustSomeBee/pseuds/JustSomeBee
Summary: The Ghost of High Heart predicted that the prince that was promised would come from the line of Aerys and Rhaella. She was wrong.
Relationships: Cersei Lannister/Jaime Lannister, Ned Stark/Original Female Character(s), Robert Baratheon/Cersei Lannister
Comments: 5
Kudos: 27





	Pact of Ice and Fire

**Author's Note:**

> I suck at smut, just letting you know. I suck at characterization as well, so if Ned seems a little ooc, welp, there you go lol. Enjoy y’all!

_Winterfell, Kingdom of the North, 283_

_“_ Who comes before the old gods this night?”

_Not my gods, not mine. I want to go home, I want to go-_

“Beata of House Wyland, comes here to be wed,” her father declared as she dug her nails deep into the crook of his arm. If he noticed, he didn’t give it away. “A woman grown and flowered, trueborn and noble, she comes to beg the blessings of the gods. Who comes to claim her?”

_A northern barbarian, a long faced wolf come to claim me and tear me apart._

”Eddard of House Stark, King of the North. I claim her. Who gives her?” Her betrothed’s grey eyes glinted in the dim light of the fire, glittering chips of ice that sent a chill all the way down into her bones.

_Don’t give me away father, please. Do you hold no love for me like mother? Do you hate me so?_

“Brendan of House Wyland, her father.” Her father turned his head in her direction, looking down at her with his dark blue eyes. Her heart gained speed as she looked into them and recognized the emotions swirling around. Concern and angry resignation both, but he pressed on. “Will you take this man?”  
  
 _No no no no no no no no-_

“I take this man.” She said loud and clear for all present to hear. As soon as the words left her lips, the familiar warmth of her father’s presence faded away, giving way to the piercing cold winds that she would have to become familiar with. 

Numbly, she reached for her betrothed hands and tried not to flinch at his much larger hands engulfing her own. Once more, she looked into his eyes as they knelt, flinty grey meeting dark purple again.

His eyes were so piercing, and yet they were so inexpressive. His eyes gave away nothing, and she envied him for it. Hers must’ve been an open book, showing the fear and terror every inch of her felt. He must’ve seen it, for his lips quirked up in an almost smug smirk before he lowered his head down to pray.

She quickly did the same, for although these gods would never be her own, she didn’t want to dishonor them in front of the Northmen. They already didn’t like her, no need to give them more reason to. Instead she merely thought of the end of the night, and what would become of her.

_Will he take me roughly, like the wolf he is? Will he claw and maim and bite me? Or...will he be gentle?_

No. She did not think him capable.

After what seemed like an eternity, she and her husband slowly stood to their feet. His eyes were locked onto hers as he undid the bat shaped clasps around her neck and removed the cloak of the red phoenix from her shoulders. Once he did, Beata quickly averted her eyes. She instantly felt naked and exposed without the sigil of her house protecting her.

_No longer a Wyland, now a Stark. No longer a phoenix, now a wolf._

_No longer a mere lady, now a Queen._

Eddard then placed the grey and white sigil of the direwolf across her shoulders with ease. And just as he was to about to finish pinning it, he paused. Confused, Beata quickly locked eyes with him again. This time, a full fledged smirk was plastered across his long face, but as soon as she blinked it was gone. Her heart continued to beat wildly, as if it was tempted to beat out of her chest.

Her husband finished pinning her cloak and dropped his hands, but not before clasping her own cold hand into his warm one.   
  
She knew he noticed her shaking, and she was sure he knew that it wasn’t from the cold.

* * *

The feast did nothing to comfort nor assuage her fears. As she sat at the high table with her husband, she avoided any and all attempts to engage in deep conversation with him. It was not a hard task, her husband was quiet and said little. And other than the odd smirk in the godswood, his face remained expressionless.

Still, the tables below them we’re surely enjoying the feast much more than she was. The Northerners were a rowdy and loud bunch, laughing and cursing without restraint. She saw a few lords that stood out to her, she had met some in the days before the wedding.

There was Lord Greatjon Umber, louder than all the rest in the hall, gulping down a flagon of ale with the men around him cheering him on. Rickard Karstark sat a ways away from him, his narrowed eyes nearly taking up half of his gaunt face. He had been the most vocal about their marriage, barking on how a Southerner, an Island Southerner at that, was unfit to be Queen in the North.

Eddard had merely ignored him.

Speaking of Islanders, her family were enjoying themselves too, although they were a bit subdued compared to the Northerners. Her sister, bright and cheerful Shiera was chattering pleasantly with the quiet and polite but unsettling Lord of the Dreadfort, Roose Bolton. Beata was surprised, the Bolton Lord merely given her a once over with his milky eyes before he began to ignore her presence altogether, but it seems he ha no trouble in keeping up in conversation with her animated sister. Her mother herself gave her a proud smile, something that Beata attempted to return, though she knew it was a poor imitation.

”My Queen.”

Her heart started to race again, as she turned her head towards her husband. His eyes were glittering again. “Are you well? You have not touched your food.”

True, she had spent most of the feast pushing it around her plate. “I’m not very hungry, my King.” She said, giving him a demure smile. He probably liked women like that, women who simper and try to please men in everything they do. “I’m more content with watching the others enjoy the feast. I haven’t...been exposed to Northern celebrations, I find them interesting.”

”You are a Northerner now, my Queen.” His eyes closed halfway. “As our children will be.”

 _Gods, children._ A shiver ran down her spine, traveling all the way to her icy fingertips. She felt sick, but she needed to bounce back in the conversation. “Of course my King.” She sat up straight and gave him her brightest smile. “I look forward to giving you many sons.”

_And daughters, but he looks as if he couldn’t care less about having them._

Her husband looked her up and down before a small smile appeared on his face. “I see.” He looked out at their guests, his hands coming up to stroke his chin.

Beata raises an eyebrow but turned away nonetheless, believing the conversation to be over.

”I wonder, if I fuck a pup into your belly, would the phoenix become a wolf?”

Beata’s eyes widened marginally and she whipped her head towards him. His smile was gone, and his expressionless mask was back in it’s place. But before Beata could open her mouth to question _what he had just said_ , the words she dreaded the most put the entire hall into a frenzy.

”It’s time for the bedding!”

On second thought she would do well in the North, for she froze instantly once those words were bellowed, by none other than Greatjon Umber himself. As roars of approval rose up from the crowd, screams threatened to claw their way out of their throat as she thought of her small frame being pawed and groped at by bawdy drunk men in nearly every direction.

”There will be no bedding.” Her husband declared, the loudest she’s heard him yet. The hall was stunned into silence, and as she looked across the tables, she caught her mother’s eyes. There was a pleased gleam in them that did nothing to calm her wildly beating heart. Murmurs and grumbles arose from the crowd, but no one was brave enough to speak out against their new king.

Her husband stood and extended a hand that she gingerly took. While she was grateful he saved her from humiliation at the hands of his bannermen, his words from just a few moments before had left her shaken.

_No longer a phoenix, now a wolf._

He guided her through the halls of Winterfell, and not once did he say anything to her. No more frightening questions or witty comments, he barely even looked at her. And somehow, that made her feel annoyed. She was his wife, _despite how unwilling she was_ , did he not care to speak to her or get to know her? 

Or would their marriage be as cold as the lands she found herself trapped in?

After what felt like an eternity, they finally arrived to their rooms. He opened the door for her, and after a brief moment of hesitation, she slowly walked in. She desperately tried to ignore the sound of finality the closing door made. Taking a deep breath, Beata quickly walked to the vanity set to the far right of the bed, which she pointedly ignored the sight of. She sat down in the chair and firstly removed the crown of bronze and iron from the top of her head. Perhaps it was her imagination, but that crown was the heaviest thing Beata had ever held or carried in her life. A sigh of relief escaped her as she undid the pins pinning her hair on top of her head, consquently jabbing her skull and causing her headaches throughout the night.

She lifted her hand to try and massage her scalp, but a larger one had already taken its place. Beata nearly jumped out of her skin as her husband's larger fingers combed their way through her hair with ease. His large form loomed over her, frightening her without even trying. And yet his fingers were gentle as they soothed her scalp, as if he knew every one of the sore spots on her head.

It felt good to be honest, so good that she couldn't stop a soft, contented purr tumbling past her lips. Immediately, Beata covered her mouth in embarrassment, heat rising up into her cheeks as her husband started chuckling. Frowning, Beata looked down at her folded hands resting in her lap. "Don't laugh at me, my King...that was embarrassing..."

"Call me Eddard or Ned, Beata." Her husband said, giving her curls one last pat or two before he walked away from her. Beata almost pouted despite herself, his hands were a balm on her sore scalp. And oh, did her name sound so sweet in his northern accent, she felt a bit of warmth in her belly just at the sound of it.

Feeling emboldened, Beata quickly stood up from her vanity and turned around to face him. Only for her heart to jump up into her throat.

She had nearly forgot about consummating the marriage.

Her husband’s back was turned, but he had removed his tunic and breeches. Now Beata had never seen a naked man before, but from what she knew, Eddard Stark was muscular than the average man. He wasn’t tall and built like his friend and fellow King Robert Baratheon, but his shoulders were broad and he carried himself in such a way that made him seem larger than he was.

She felt herself quiver at the thought of those large arms engulfing her. Beata herself was smaller than the average woman, in fact nearly everything about her was small. Small frame, small hands, small feet. Her sisters joked often and said that if she was any smaller, she’d be a perfect match for Tywin Lannister’s dwarf son.

Mother did not find that funny.

Beata was pulled out of her thoughts by a pair of large hands settling themselves onto her tiny waist. Blinking, Beata looked into the eyes of her husband and gulped at the sight. Those grey eyes were dark with lust now, and his hands tightened on her waist.

Her heart began to race again, as thoughts of her being rutted into the bed and fucked bloody without any care to her person ran through her mind.

Before she could say anything, her husband gently turned her around and began to slowly undo the laces of her wedding dress. Tears began to prick at the edges of her eyes, and as she clenched her fists, she whispered out one last plea. “Please don’t hurt me, Eddard...”

The hands immediately froze before leaving her person entirely. Thinking she offended him, Beata quicky wrapped her arms around her body as if she was shielding herself from whatever he was going to do to her next.

Her husband let out a soft sigh and gently took her arms, placing them by her sides. She forced herself to look up into his long face, into his sharp grey eyes. “I will not hurt you, Beata.”

”You lie,” she whispered, narrowing her eyes. “It always hurts.”

Eddard blinked and rose an eyebrow. “The first time for women, yes. But afterwards it will become much better. Who told you otherwise?”

Beata shifted awkward on her feet, looking at everything in the room but at him. “My septa.”

”Ah. A woman sworn to celibacy.” Eddard chuckled, making her face heat up again at both the sound and the words. That...made sense now that she thought about it more. “And what did your mother say about it?”

Beata let out a small breath as she remembered her mother’s teasing smirk. “That it depends entirely on the man...”

At that, Eddard actually smiled. A genuine smile, or so it seemed to her. “Then...will you allow me to show you? It will hurt at first, that is true. But I promise you that will be worth it in the end.”

Beata gulped once again and looked down. All she can think of what her mother said before the wedding tonight.

_”After tonight, you will be a Queen. Now remember, think of your cousin Rhaella. A crown doesn’t give you power Beata, but charm your husband. It will be easy, you are a Wyland after all. Charm him, and he will give you all of the power in the world regardless of what you do. He will treat you as an equal. Something every woman craves.”_

Once more, Beata looked into the eyes of her husband and smiled slightly before nodding. She had never wanted to be Queen, never knew such a thing was possible for her.

But here she was, Queen in the North at the age of ten and seven. She had no choice but to make the best of her situation.

Eddard let out a soft hum in response before returning to the back of her dress, as he undid the laces, Beata still felt the apprehension clawing its way out her throat.

_You are a Queen. A Queen._

Her dress slowly slid down her body, pooling at her feet. She had to physically bite her lip to keep her body from seizing up as her smallclothes joined her dress on the floor.

She was now fully naked in front of her husband and she had never felt more helpless in her life.

”Beata...open your eyes, look at me.”

She didn’t even realize she had shut her eyes. Eddard stood in front of her once more, his eyes now softer than before. Beata felt herself slowly relax as his large hands cupped her face. Gods, he was so close. Was he planning to kiss her? She had never been kissed before, hells she had never done anything with any boy before.

_Well, there was Eric Palm when I was five, but that was a kiss on the cheek and Mother had been furious with me for kissing a bastard._

Then, Eddard Stark, First of His Name, King of Winter and King in the North had kissed her, and all thoughts and doubts quickly emptied themselves out of her mind.

She had never been kissed before, but his kisses were sweet. He was gentle with his hands, running his hands along her sides or, to her newfound delight, squeezing her small teats. She had no idea what to do with her hands, so she merely wrapped them around his neck.

Eddard seemed practiced in what he was doing, meaning he had known other women. The thought of another woman with her husband made her angry, and without realizing what she was doing, she bit down into his bottom lip.

That apparently had been the right thing to do, because Eddard let out a growl that sent pleasant shivers down her spine before he picked her up and threw her onto the bed.

Beata let out an alarmed squeak that was quickly swallowed up by Eddard’s mouth. Then he started trailing kisses down her body and her skin felt so heated, she didn’t know what to do. Mother said nothing about this, about the pleasure she would be experiencing. She felt like she was going to explode.

Then Eddard had put his head between her legs and his mouth there, and she almost blacked out.

Gods, is his mouth supposed to go there?

Something was coming, it was like something was wound up in the bottom of her stomach. All he had to do was keep going and she would reach her peak.

”Oh Eddard, pl...please...”

His large hands gripped her waist tightly as his mouth continued to work wonders on her. Then, his lips wrapped around her nub and she was gone.

Beata gasped and whined as she hit her peak, arching her back off the bed. Spots of light danced across her eyelids and she panted as she lied back down, a thin sheen of sweat covering her dark skin.

Eddard let out a chuckle as he climbed back on top of her. His was a welcome weight, and Beata wrapped her arms around him as he kissed her again. She could feel his hard length resting on her thigh, and she clutched him tighter.

Her husband slowly pulled away, looking down at her with inquisitive grey eyes. “Look at me and relax...”

She did, gulping as she felt it pressed against her sex. Still, she looked into Eddard’s eyes and tried not to wince or cry out as he began to sheathe himself inside of her.

Her nails dug into his shoulders as he stretched her, and he returned the favor by peppering kisses all over her face. She almost smiled. If it felt like she wasn’t being split open she would have thought it sweet.

After a while, Eddard was fully inside of her, something that made her face heat up once more as he groaned in pleasure. He kissed her once more and cupped her cheek. “You did so well for me...you take me perfectly...” he whispered huskily.

And damn if that didn’t make her feel even more heated.

Eddard placed his hands on either side of her and began to move, making her gasp. While the pain began to ebb, it was still there, making this a rather uncomfortable experience. “E...Eddard...”

Her husband shushed her and grabbed her left breast, and Beata let out a soft moan as she tried to focus on the pleasure that brought her. Soon after, the pain began to give way to pleasure, and Beata couldn’t contain the wanton sounds that left her lips.

_Gods, why did no one tell me about this?!_

She felt delightfully full and stretched, and Eddard began to to pick up the pace. She couldn’t think straight, all she could think of was her husband and how better he felt when he was inside of her.

She didn’t want him anywhere else.

Eddard growled and lifted up her leg, hooking it over his shoulder. Then he hit something that made her toes curl. Beata tilted her head back and nearly screamed as he began to concentrate on that spot.

”I’m going to fuck an entire pack of wolves into you.” He growled, and she shivered in delight. “You’re going to give me many sons and daughters, I’ll fuck you every night if I have to.”

_By the Gods..._

Beata made a soft keening sound in response, but that quickly turned into a whine when her husband pulled out. “E...Eddard...”

She let out a yelp as she was flipped around into all fours and he entered her once more, effectively shutting her up, because this new position made her actually scream. Beata buried her face into the sheets to hide them, but her husband made this so difficult with his wonderfully angled thrusts.

Oh Gods, she was so close.

The sound of skin slapping on skin and the sound of her own whorish screams echoed in the room as her husband mounted and pounded into her.

”Oh Gods, Eddard...I’m so close, s..so close...”

Eddard then leaned forward and wrapped his hand around her throat, growling like the wolf he was.

It was so barbaric, so rough.

It made her hit her peak instantly.

Beata screamed herself hoarse as she felt the pleasure completely wash over her, slumping forward into the sheets.

Her husband quickly followed behind her, spilling his seed into her womb with a growl. He panted softly as he slowly and gently pulled his softening length out of her sex, lying down next to her on the bed.

As she and her husband caught their breath, Beata began to think about what she just experienced. She wondered why her septa said what she said. True, it did hurt in the beginning, but it felt so good afterwards. And now she realized why her mother said what she did.

Looking over at Eddard, she began to feel guilty at what she thought of him before. He was gentle with her, he cared for her pleasure and even talked to her about her fears.

Her husband then blinked his grey eyes open and locked them onto hers with a small smile on his face. “Are you alright?”

”Oh...more than alright actually...” She smiled shyly and looked down at the sheets between them. “That felt...that was...”

Eddard chuckled and reached forward to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. She ignored the heat rising in her cheeks. “You enjoyed yourself, I’m glad.”

_He was so different from earlier. Where he was cold and almost indifferent to me, he’s almost warm now. But there’s something that’s been bothering me ever since this arrangement came to my attention._

”Eddard?”

”Hmm?”

Beata nervously began to bunch the sheets between her hands, as if focusing on them would make the question seem less strange. “Why did you choose me as your wife? Why not someone from the North? Or even Lysa Tully?”

_No longer a Tully, now an Arryn actually. Poor soul, that reminds me that I could do a lot worse than what I have._

Eddard let out a thoughtful hum and stroked his chin. Idly, he took her arm and pulled her in closer, making her squeak. “Before she died, I was initially supposed to marry Catelyn Tully. But I didn’t know she was pregnant with my nephew at the time.”

Ah yes, Robb Snow, Brandon Stark’s bastard. She didn’t know how to feel about him yet. She bore no ill will against him at all, she just hadn’t met the babe yet.

”While I held no ill will against Catelyn, I had no desire to pick up where Brandon left off. Hoster Tully didn’t see it like that, he told me Brandon had shamed Catelyn and I had to marry her to fix it all.” Eddard shrugged, his grey eyes as hard as stone. “I refused, he wanted to keep my nephew and raise him himself. But when Catelyn was in the birthing bed, she made me promise to take him and raise him as I own. He would have pulled his forces out of the rebellion had it not been for Jon Arryn.”

Beata nodded, slowly digesting the information. “I understand...and, as for a bride from the North...?”

Her husband’s eyes softened as he looked at her, catching her off guard. “I was declared King in the North as soon as we got the letter that Aerys had killed my father and brother, did you know? And when I was, I realized that the North hasn’t reached it’s true potential for thousands of years.” He sat up and faced her fully, his eyes glittering as they bore into her own. “Beata, tell me. What do you think the North needs?”

Oh. She blinked owlishly and tilted her head to the side. She surely wasn’t expecting that. “Well umm...” Her mind began to go through the various teachings her mother drilled into her and siblings. “...A fleet for one.” She instantly thought of her mother’s disdain for the ironborn, and how she disapproved of the way their raiding went unchecked. “To better patrol the ironborn raids...maybe along Sea Dragon Point? You definitely have the wood for it, and it would do some good to have a fleet for trading as well...”

”And what else?”

”Umm...we did pass by Moat Cailin.” Beata tapped her chin and frowned. “Why have you not rebuilt it yet? It’s protected you from invasions for years, and yet...it’s ruined. The North reminds of Dorne almost, if you are not used to the weather, it could destroy you and your armies quite quickly. With the weather and a natural manned choke point, you wouldn’t have a chance. So, that could be something.”

Eddard’s eyes began to glitter again and nodded encouragingly. “I see...”

”And that’s...all of the things mother and I went over, really.” Beata mumbles, running a hand through her hair. “She insisted that I do a little bit of reading before I came.”

”It makes perfect sense if you’re going to be Queen.”

”That’s true, but that still doesn’t answer my question, my King.” She said teasingly.

Her husband hums. “You are...well _were_ , a Southerner. And yet you have more solutions to our most pressing problems than any of my bannermen do.” He then smirks, a strange expression on his long face. “And your mother told me about you, Beata Wyland. She says that you always try to find an answer for everything, that you are well suited to any task that lies before you.”

His eyes slowly darkened, and Beata felt that familiar tingle as he leaned in close to her. “But you aren’t blind. You know when to step back and be cautious, to watch and wait until you see an opportunity before you.”

Beata’s breath hitched as he took her chin between his thumb and forefinger. His eyes were smoldering, as if they were looking into her soul. “Let the South have the six other kingdoms. Help me build the North to be better than all of them.”

This was a massive undertaking, and yet she couldn’t contain her excitement. The thought of building a kingdom, leaving something behind for her children and her children’s children, was intoxicating. Beata had always wanted something of her own growing up and now she had it. But a kingdom was no toy, and the Northmen did not trust her just yet.

But that was fine. Eddard chose her for a reason and she would not let him down. Not anytime soon. The first order of business was getting the Northerners’ trust.

But that could wait till later. For now, Beata was focused on getting to know every inch of her new husband.

**Author's Note:**

> I love Ned. I love badass Ned more. But I love badass King in the North Ned even more. Also! I changed Beata's sibling’s names around a bit. They will be made to reflect more of their diverse family, since they are a big mix of Wyland, Targaryen and Whent. Wyland names usually reflect more of real life African culture, Targaryen of Valryian as you know, and well...I'm not really sure what Whent reflects...riverland names I guess?
> 
> So! Bilal, the only son and heir will remain the same, reflecting Wyland culture.  
> Bina, the eldest daughter and secondborn will change to Shiera, reflecting Riverland culture. It’s also the name of a highborn Blackwood woman, and also Sabina’s grandmother was a Blackwood.  
> Beza, the second daughter and thirdborn will change to Daella, a Valryian name and also the name of King Jaehaerys’ daughter.  
> And that’s all the name changes  
> I have (for now). They will be changed in my other story, but I’m being a little lazy right now, lol.  
> Also, almost 5000 words, good LORD.  
> Also, also, Palm is the bastard surname for those raised in the Islands! Aren't I clever?


End file.
